Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 572 Siege (Twenty-four)

  Where did the rebels get their new artillery?

Montecuccoli had no idea.

Countless guesses popped up in his mind in an instant, but none of them could be verified at this moment and here.

While Montecuccoli was in a state of confusion, the battle on the river bank continued.

In the sky, the illumination rocket exhausted its short life, and unwillingly collapsed into a small red spot, and then disappeared into the night sky.

Both sides lost a major light source.

But the liquid fire thrown into the trench had not yet burned out. The flames shone through the veil of smoke, dimly illuminating everything on the river bank and casting a series of frantic shadows behind the commandos of Lodwijk's unit who jumped out of the breastwork.

Lodwijk's troops chose a good time to attack. The rebel artillery had already fired a round of fire to cover the landing of their own soldiers, and then temporarily disappeared. Only the rebel musketeers were still firing fiercely.

Behind the soldiers of Lodwijk's unit, who were rushing in the front, there was a white tail, like the wake left by a ship on the water.

Blown by the wind, the white tail quickly lost its shape and spread to both sides.

At this time, someone suddenly realized that the so-called "tail" was actually a wisp of white smoke.

Montecuccoli's cognition was higher than that of ordinary soldiers. He recognized the source of the white smoke at a glance.

It was solid alchemical smoke, fast and fierce, and sticking to the ground. It was far superior to the smoke produced by burning wet straw or wet clothes.

The smoke released by multiple Lodwijk commandos blended together, almost completely obscuring the route of the charge.

Now, neither side could see anything.

However, in Montecuccoli's opinion, it was unnecessary to use the precious alchemical smoke. The cover of the smoke was actually meaningless to Colonel Lodewijk's subordinates.

The rebels had the advantage of having pre-built artillery positions.

If it was Montecuccoli himself who commanded the rebel artillery, he would have measured the distance and calculated the angle in advance, so that he could have hit the target accurately even if he could not make visual corrections.

Rather than hoping that smoke would help, the rebels' old siege guns were too heavy and had no wheeled carriages to be accurately reset.

The rebel musketeers might be disturbed by the smoke, but a human body two hundred meters away is only half the size of a thumb nail with the arm stretched out, making it difficult to aim, let alone shoot accurately.

On the contrary, our own musketeers, who were closer, were more affected.

Moreover, the smoke would hinder the movement of the commandos, so in the opinion of the artillery lieutenant colonel, Lieutenant Colonel William Lodewick's use of alchemical smoke was a bit of a desperate measure.

The key is to disperse, to keep sufficient distance between the soldiers, and not to pile up in layers, so as to spread out the formation.

However, soldiers fighting alone would be at a disadvantage in hand-to-hand combat, and loose assaults would be difficult to exert their power.

So essentially, this is an unsolvable problem.

This question was originally prepared by Raymond Montecuccoli for the "students" serving in the rebel army.

But at this moment, on Margit Island, an examination room that could not be any smaller, the artillery lieutenant colonel could only watch his friendly forces solve the problem.

Leaving a white trail behind, the soldiers of Lodewijk's unit at the front had already rushed to the edge of the trench.

What greeted him was a tongue of fire bursting out from the muzzle of the gun.

There was a hole in the breastplate of the soldier from Lodwijk's army. The huge impact force made him stagnate and then he fell on his back dejectedly.

The jar with the Magic Warfare Bureau logo hanging on his back was pressed down by his body, still emitting white smoke with a hissing sound.

But the rebels in the trenches had too few muskets, and a few sporadic gunshots were not enough to curb the momentum of Lodwijk's charge. More and more Lodwijk's soldiers rushed out of the smoke and jumped into the trenches.

Hand-to-hand combat begins.

Swords were against swords, chests against chests, and the two sides met in a narrow road with nowhere to retreat. Roars and screams mixed together, and the musketeers on the slope and on the other side of the river were also firing desperately.

The iron cans brought into the trench continued to spew out alchemical smoke, and the billowing white smoke surged downwards and soon filled the trench.

Nothing can be seen.

But Montecuccoli still hadn't given the order to reload, nor had he even told his men what kind of shells to use.

The adjutant next to him couldn't wait any longer. He took a step towards the lieutenant colonel, his lips trembling, as if he wanted to say something.

But Montecuccoli just glared at his student and swallowed the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

After a difficult respite, the rebel artillery began to roar again.

However, it was not those old heavy artillery, because the sound of shooting was crisp and clear.

Montecuccoli immediately unscrewed the three hourglasses representing the six-pound cannon, threw the remaining sand in the hourglasses directly to the ground, then quickly tightened the hourglasses again and turned them upside down.

"Fire the gun! Reduce the gunpowder by half!" Montecuccoli shouted, "Reload the shotgun shells!"

"Reduce the gunpowder by half! Reload the shotgun shells with one shot!" The adjutant woke up as if from a dream and ran towards the gun position shouting.

The gunners of each gun also shouted and repeated orders, and the loaders filled half of the gunpowder, then put on the partition and stuffed the tin can filled with lead into the muzzle.

Montecuccoli adjusted the firing angle himself. He turned the screw to raise the muzzle of the rebels' six-pounder cannon, which had been aimed at the rebels, until it was almost pointing diagonally at the sky.

"Don't waste your artillery on destroying the enemy's artillery."

This is what Montecuccoli taught every artillery student.

Because the firing opportunities of cannons are too precious, and the efficiency of using cannons to destroy cannons is too low.

Not to mention that it was pitch dark at the moment. Even if they wanted to have a "cannon duel", they could not aim accurately and could only shoot vaguely at the location where the fire was lit on the enemy's position.

Moreover, if the rebel artillery commander had listened carefully to the artillery chief's lecture, he would have arranged the bunkers in advance and closed the firing port with a mobile barrier after each shot.

In contrast, the artillery position where Montecuccoli is currently located was hastily built and is far from solid.

The enemy had cover, but I had none. Shooting at each other under such unfavorable conditions, and at such a close distance, was simply courting death.

The enemy's artillery could even completely ignore Montecuccoli's artillery and focus on destroying the infantry of the Southern Front.

The vast majority of artillery officers who graduated from the Union Army Academy studied textbooks written by Montecuccoli.

He knows exactly how his students will think, prepare, and respond.

And Montecuccoli is going to break his own teachings tonight.

"Fire!" The moment the order was given, Montecuccoli really wanted to know which student on the other side of the river was it.

The muzzle of the six-pounder burst into a deadly red flame, and tin cans filled with lead were thrown high into the air, disintegrating in mid-air and raining down a deadly rain of fire on the rebel artillery positions.

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